Master Plan
by planetkiller
Summary: Sometimes, Lorne thinks Fate really does want him to be alone for the rest of his life. Lorne/Kavanagh
1. Simian Stresses

**AN:** This was written in order to help me prepare for the vocabulary part of the GRE. My word was "prosaic" which means dull or ordinary.

In hindsight, it should've been obvious. Monday dawned bright and beautiful after two prosaic weeks. It shouldn't have been odd. There were often stretches when things didn't happen on Atlantis. But nothing had happened anywhere. No off world missions had been attacked; no one had seen the Wraith; there had been no explosions or anything that would've been out of the ordinary anywhere else.

So when the tribes people of M8X-117 turned Lorne into a monkey, it came almost as a relief.

"Why the hell is there a monkey in my lab?" Kavanagh shrieked. "Get that damn primate off the damn lab table! This is not a zoo! Have all of you idiots forgotten proper lab procedures?"

"But Dr. Kavanagh--"

"'But Dr. Kavanagh' what? Do we need another lesson in how to act in a lab?" he asked.

"But Dr. Kavanagh, he's Maj. Lorne."

The tall man stopped and turned to face the lab assistant. "The monkey is who?"

"Major Lorne, sir. I-I don't know his first name." Which was coincidental considering Kavanagh didn't know the assistant's name.

"If you're lying to me..."

"I swear, sir, that I'm not." Kavanagh glared at the man and walked over to the ape. It made an odd noise and climbed up to throw its arms around Kavanagh's shoulders.

"It's Maj. Lorne all right." He petted the monkey awkwardly on the head and it climbed up to sit on him as if the smelly beast was a young child. "How did this happen?" The monkey made an "ook" noise and started trying to remove the hair tie from Kavanagh's hair.

"The indigenous people of M8X-117 did--"

"How?" Kavanagh interrupted.

"We don't know, sir," the assistant said, flinching.

"Who are they sending to the planet?" he asked, batting the simian hand away from his head.

"Um...I think it's Sgt. Stackhouse's team."

Kavanagh nodded before slapping the monkey's hand again. "Stop that! Why do you have a problem with my hair being tied up? I like it, therefore you will deal with it, monkey brain!" He stared at the monkey. "You know what I mean."

Twenty minutes later, Kavanagh with Maj. Monkey stood before the 'Gate. Stackhouse went around and pressed his forehead to the forehead of the team members. He finally walked up to Kavanagh.

"If you do that damn Athosian--" Kavanagh stopped when the Marine pressed his forehead against the monkey's.

"Sorry, Doc," he said as he straightened up. "It's tradition." Next thing, the scientist knew the sergeant had his forehead pressed against his.

"Alright, gentlemen!" Stackhouse yelled as he pulled himself away from the scientist. "Let's go get our major back! No offense, sir." He tipped his hat at the monkey and headed through the wormhole.

"I never thought I'd agree with a grunt," Kavanagh muttered as he followed.

The village closest to the 'Gate on M8X-117 was beautiful. It looked like something from a travel show about Polynesia. Kavanagh adjusted the monkey so he resting on his hip, batted his hand away from his hair tie, and followed the grunts into the village. And stopped short at what he saw.

"Hey, guys. I thought you weren't supposed to come back 'til Friday."

"Lorne!" Kavanagh shrieked gleefully. "What the hell are you doing, you son of a bitch? Thought you'd take some time off to play with the natives in the sun while we all worried sick about you?"

"Uh, Doc, this was agreed upon by my team," Lorne said, pulling himself up to a sitting position. The gorgeous, scantily clad men and women that were sitting around him sighed a bit. "It's a sort of cultural exchange and I figured since nothing was happening on Atlantis..."

"Sir, your team thought you had been turned into a monkey," Stackhouse said. "In fact, we all thought you were the monkey trying to pull down Dr. Kavanagh's hair." The scientist slapped the simian hand.

"Stop that!" he told it. He turned to face Lorne. "You've not been turned into a monkey?" Lorne patted himself down.

"Not that I've seen."

The angry scientist strode toward him, thrusting the monkey toward him. "Then you can be the monkeysitter."

"Uh, sir," Stackhouse said. "As befitting a punishment as that is, I think Weir wants Lorne back." Kavanagh huffed as Lorne stood up and handed the monkey to one of the villagers.

"I have to go," he said. It was obscene how disappointed they looked as the group walked back toward the 'Gate. "You know, Stack, I think we should just let everybody think I was actually turned into a monkey." He bumped his shoulder against Kavanagh's who pulled back. "It'll be fun, right, Doc?"

"Hilarious. I really enjoy being made fun of."

"At least, you didn't let the monkey pull your hair down," Lorne said, reaching for the hair tie. Kavanagh slapped his hand away.

"And you wonder why it was so easy for all of us to believe you'd been turned into a monkey?"


	2. Stage One

**AN:** My words for this chapter were "tacitly" meaning silently, "indigent" meaning needy, "fervor" meaning intense feelings, and "captious" meaning quick to find fault. Also, I don't own _SGA_ or _Compton_; though I do know the latter's cinematographer.

* * *

Major Lorne tacitly watched his scientist. Technically, Dr. Kavanagh was Cpl. LeBeau's scientist, but his heart belonged to Maj. Lorne. Even if the physicist didn't know it yet.

Yelling from McKay's labs reverberated off the walls to come to a rest near Lorne. The sounds of the captious scientist were music to the Airman's ears. He hummed a long for a beat or two before stepping into the lab and announcing his presence.

"Beau said you wanted to talk to me, Doc?" Lorne asked. The scientist turned and snapped his fingers.

"'Bout time the Cajun did something right. Follow me." Lorne obediently followed Kavanagh to a sort of booth in the corner of the lab.

"What is it?" he asked, reaching out to touch the intricate symbols carved into it. Kavanagh grabbed his wrist.

"Surely life in Pegasus has taught you not to touch strange things, Major."

"I am serious and don't call me Shirley," Lorne quoted back with a grin.

"I hate Leslie Nelson," the scientist replied while checking some readings. "He ruined that movie for me." He scribbled something on a tablet. "He ruined quite a few movies for me." Kavanagh made a few adjustments to the machine as curiosity finally overwhelmed Lorne.

"Is this payback for the monkey thing?"

Kavanagh looked up. "No. We think this is some sort of navigational array or remote piloting system for the 'jumpers. And Sheppard is busy doing whatever McKay wants him to so you were the next logical choice." He made a final adjustment. "When I get revenge for the monkey thing, you'll know it."

"So long as it doesn't come while I'm helping the indigent farmers of M3X-111--"

"Step into the machine," Kavanagh said, cutting him off. Lorne obeyed and the scientist wrote down the readings. "Okay. When I say so, think 'on' at it. Now." Nothing happened and Kavanagh muttered in disgust. "Right. Let's try this again. Now!" Still nothing happened. "Okay. Let's not panic. Even if this is all your fault. Where's that book?" The scientist began casting about and Lorne couldn't help but grin. Suddenly, Kavanagh leaned over a table, putting his butt at the perfect level for admiring. The Airman couldn't help himself.

Suddenly, the booth activated and Kavanagh whirled around. Lorne tried to school his features, but he knew it was obvious what he was doing. Luckily, the scientist was oblivious.

"How'd you manage that?" he asked as he began taking readings. Kavanagh's fervor was contagious and Lorne couldn't help but get excited himself.

"Happy thoughts."

"Excellent! Excellent." Kavanagh turned to the Airman. "Think 'off' at it." The machine obeyed the first time. "Fabulous! And I don't mean the rapper!"

"Was that a joke?" Lorne asked with a grin. The scientist beamed at him.

"Yes, it was. Get out of the machine and go do something until I need you."

Lorne was almost out of the room before a thought struck him. "Hey, you ever seen _Straight Out of Compton_?" he asked, turning to face the physicist. Kavanagh shook his head distractedly. "Great. My room. 2000 hours. See you." Lorne left with a big smile on his face. The plan to make Kavanagh his scientist was coming along nicely.


	3. Operation First Date

**AN:** The word for this one was "cabalistic" meaning incomprehensible. I don't own anything within. Even if I do know _Compton_'s cinematographer.

* * *

At 2037, Lorne realised that Dr. Kavanagh had forgotten about their date. If he were honest with himself, Lorne knew that the scientist probably didn't even know it was a date. But Lorne knew and that was all that mattered.

The Airman stood in the doorway of the lab, holding two MREs and two cups of coffee and watching Kavanagh flit around like a hummingbird. He rapped on the door frame carefully so as not to disturb the meal or startle the scientist.

"I don't need you at the moment, Major," Kavanagh said after a glance.

"You forgot our plans," Lorne replied with a hint of a pout. "Besides you need to eat."

"We had plans?"

"You were supposed to come to my place about 45 minutes ago to watch _Straight Out of Compton_," Lorne reminded him.

"Do you mean 'Outta' and why did I agree to that?" Kavanagh asked as he wrote on the whiteboard.

"No, I meant what I said. And you didn't agree so much as not refuse." Lorne sat the food down and hopped onto the lab counter. "What are you writing?" he asked, pointing at the cabalistic equations on the board.

"I'm doing power consumption equations. You gave us a lot to work with when you turned on the booth." The long-haired physicist scribbled for a moment more before turning to the Airman. "Did you mention food?" Lorne held up the food and Kavanagh hurried over. "I'm starving."

"Why didn't you eat something, genius?" Lorne asked as they dug into their meals.

"Because it was all flowing," Kavanagh replied through a mouthful of food. "When that happens you have to milk it for all its worth. Genius is a flighty thing and you can never be sure that what made sense to you now will make sense in five minutes." He shoveled some more food in. "When it's all flowing, a split second hesitation could be the difference between cold fusion and microwaveable gel packs."

"I love those things!" Lorne replied. "They're especially fantastic for Teyla-and-Ronon bruises." Kavanagh gave him a look.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Absolutely not. They're fantastic." Suddenly, both men burst out laughing.

"I guess we need to make a rain check for the movie, huh?" Kavanagh asked after a bit of silence. "Don't worry about it, Doc. Now that I think about it, it isn't your kind of movie."

"Really, Major? And what makes you think that?" Kavanagh took a sip of his coffee.

"Stackhouse calls it the 'motherfucking movie' due to all the cursing." Lorne paused for a tic before moving in for the kill. "And somebody gets stabbed with a sandwich in the first five minutes." The reaction was exactly what he had hoped for. The scientist spat coffee across the counter before laughing so hard he had to put his head down.

"Why did you suggest that movie?" Kavanagh asked in between giggles.

"Well, because there are only two movies that are easy to check out of the Military Rec Room. _Compton_ is one of them; the other is _West Side Story_. I figured _Compton_ was the better idea," Lorne replied before taking a sip of his own coffee.

"I love _West Side Story_," the scientist said. Lorne choked on his coffee. Kavanagh continued obliviously. "It's a classic! It's Romeo and Juliet told with song and dance." Then, he began singing. "I feel pretty. Oh so pretty. Oh so pretty, and witty, and gay!"

"And I pity," Lorne joined in, "Any girl who isn't me today!" They burst out laughing.

Lorne was the one who broke the companionable silence after they finished. "So _West Side Story_ tomorrow at 2000 hours at my place?"

"Sure thing, Major," Kavanagh replied handing over his MRE pouch and his empty cup. "If you don't mind, I have a few more calculations I need to do before I can leave tonight."

"I understand, Doc," Lorne said as he prepared to leave. "Remember: tomorrow at 8 pm!" As he left, he couldn't restrain the grin that broke out across his face. Operation First Date was a success!

* * *

**AN:** I wish I was making up the stuff about the movie, but I'm not.


	4. Operation Second Date

**AN:** My word was "parietal" meaning pertaining to walls. I don't own anything within.

* * *

Lorne was still wondering if he had put on too much cologne when the door chimed. He stepped back from the mirror and ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly, Lorne removed the blue and white button down he was wearing to reveal a gray t-shirt that better matched his black slacks. He was putting too much effort in this looking like he had made no effort thing. The door chimed again and Lorne took a deep breath before opening it.

"Hi, Col. Sheppard," Lorne said, hoping he didn't sound as disappointed as he was. "What brings you all the way out here?"

"Squarks," the colonel replied. If Lorne didn't know better, he would have thought that the man did a little dance.

"Squarks?" Lorne repeated, confused.

"You know, those half shark, half manta ray thing with the mouthful of squid tentacles? A couple of them have found their way into the Marine Biology lab on the South Pier."

"That's a good fifty feet from the ocean and that pool isn't connected to anything," Lorne reminded Sheppard. His CO did a little happy dance.

"That would be why the geeks are freaking out. They say they need military assistance so come on." Lorne pointed back into his room and opened his mouth. "We don't have time for you to change your clothes."

"I have friends coming over."

"Leave 'em a note on the door. Let's go before somebody else gets to rescue all of the squarks," Sheppard replied. Lorne wondered why the colonel was so happy before grabbing a Post-It note and scrawling, "Non-emergency. Be back in a bit. DON'T LEAVE!" on it.

He barely had time to lock his door and stick the note on it before Sheppard was jogging off toward the nearest transporter. Lorne had to break into a sprint just to avoid being left behind.

* * *

It was 2119 before Lorne collapsed against the transporter's wall. He was tired, sticky, and covered in squark goo. The colonel's reason for rushing like a madman earlier was that squarks eject some sort of ink-like/coagulated blood/feces substance when you touch them and McKay had been called down to deal with the issue first. Which meant that Sheppard had wanted to see the scientist before he managed to find a shower and scrap the gunk off.

The transporter doors opened and Lorne stumbled out to see the last thing he wanted to see.

"Dr. Kavanagh," Lorne greeted.

"Holy shit, what the hell happened to you?"

"I'm doing fine and you?" Lorne asked as he unlocked and opened the door.

"Good, good; what happened?" Kavanagh replied, following the Airman.

"Squarks." Lorne didn't give him a chance to ask any more questions. "Please sit in the parietal chair, doc."

"Parietal?" Kavanagh asked with an amused grin.

"Yes, parietal as in 'next to the wall,'" Lorne replied as he rummaged through his dresser for pyjamas.

"Actually, it means 'relating to walls' and is normally only used in medical terminology," Kavanagh said as he sunk into the chair. It was the most comfortable one Lorne could find. He had dug it out specifically for the occasion. "Somebody got a word-of-the-day calendar," the scientist teased. Lorne shrugged, refusing to be embarrassed.

"Okay, I know you've been really patient with me so far, but I just ask that you be patient for a bit longer." Lorne held up the bundle of clothes. "I'm going to change and then I'll be right back." Lorne glanced around the room and for the fifteenth time today wished he had his own bathroom. He stepped into the closet and pulled the door to, hoping he didn't look like as much of a jerk as he felt like.

Kavanagh was still sitting there when he stepped out so obviously Lorne was doing something right.

"So, Doc, you ready to watch _West Side Story_ now?"

"Actually, I've had a bad day so I'm not in the mood for two hours of singing and dancing."

"Two and a half," Lorne corrected him, hoping he didn't sound as disappointed as he was.

"But…" Kavanagh began digging in a little bag at his feet. "I am in the mood for two hour of explosions, Angelina Jolie, and Brad Pitt." He pulled _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_ out and handed it to the Airman.

"Where did you get this?" Lorne asked in awe as he searched the back for special features.

"It's one of the films that's easiest to get in the Science rec room," Kavanagh admitted with a shrug. Lorne put the dvd in his laptop and tried to sit it somewhere they could both see.

"All right, let me handle this!" Kavanagh finally demanded. He sat the computer at the foot of the bed and climbed onto it near the head. "Come and sit up here." Lorne complied whilst the butterflies in his stomach danced the rumba. "That's better."

Lorne didn't remember falling asleep. He also didn't remember putting his head on Kavanagh's shoulder and drooling into his hair. The gentle pinkness of sleep was quickly pushed away by mortification.

"Oh, crap. I'm sorry," he said immediately.

"Don't worry about it," Kavanagh said with a shrug. "To be honest, I forgot you were even there after a few minutes." Lorne felt an odd surge of relief. "Until you started snoring." He groaned and put his head into his hands.

"I'm a lousy person. What can I do to make it up to you?" Lorne asked. Kavanagh considered for a long moment.

"For starters, you can bring me lunch in the lab tomorrow," Kavanagh replied.

"'For starters?'" Lorne repeated.

"You drooled in my hair," Kavanagh said with an unspoken groan. "And I want an unspecified favour to be redeemed at a later time." The Airman felt oddly happy. This meant that the scientist was willing to spend even more time with him.

"I think I can do that," he replied nonchalantly. Briefly, he wondered if he had responded too nonchalantly, but soon abandoned it for inappropriate thoughts. Lorne and the scientist were still sitting far too close to each other, but neither had made a move.

"I need to leave," Kavanagh said. There was an obvious note of regret in his tone, though. "I have to get up earlier tomorrow." The scientist slid off the bed and leaned over to put on his shoes. Lorne tried to figure out why he was content to bend over when there was a handy bed, but he soon lost that train of thought in favour of staring at the other man's ass. It was a beautiful ass.

Lorne quickly schooled his features as the scientist turned around. "Want me to walk you home, Doc? You never know what's out there." Kavanagh nodded his thanks. They wandered out into the corridor together, Lorne still barefoot and wearing his pyjamas.

They talked, mostly about inanities, until they got to the scientist's door.

"So. This is me," Kavanagh said, pointing at the door.

"Yeah, I know," Lorne replied. They stood there, awkward and a bit too close to each other for a bit. "I had a nice time," the Airman said finally.

"So sleeping through movies and drooling in other people's hair constitutes a good time, that's good to know," Kavanagh said with a hint of a grin.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," the scientist said, grinning widely. "I just enjoy tormenting you."

"Maybe I should clip pigtails onto my hair so you can pull 'em," Lorne replied with a grin.

"Oh I don't know." Lorne stiffened as Kavanagh ran a hand through his hair. "I rather like your hair as is." He gently tugged on a strand. "Even if it isn't conducive to pulling your pigtails."

Suddenly, the scientist stepped away from the Airman. "I eat lunch at noon. See you tomorrow."

Then, Kavanagh was in his room and Lorne was alone in the hallway. He turned and began wandering down the corridor, humming. "There's a place for us," Lorne sang quietly. "Somewhere a place for us. Peace and quiet and open air wait somewhere for us." He gave a little spin and threw his arms out, ready to begin the next line. "There's--"

"Sir, are you alright?" a voice asked. Lorne lowered his arms and squinted down the hallway. "I'm perfectly fine, Beau."

"You sure, sir?" the Cajun asked as he came nearer. "You looked like you were having a spasm or something."

"I've just had a brilliant night," he replied with a grin.

"I thought you had squark duty."

"I did." Lorne indicated the man's weapon and clothing. "And you're on watch."

"Yessir. I prefer it, to be honest," Beau said. He fell into step beside the Major. "So what's her name?"

"Whose name, corporal?" Lorne asked.

"Your girl's." Lorne started for a moment before remembering that Beau had always been good at figuring other people out.

"There's no girl," Lorne said firmly. Beau nodded his head.

"Well, if, theoretically, there was a girl, would she be a guy?" Beau asked. Lorne stared at him.

"Theoretically, yes, she could be a guy, if there was a girl," Lorne replied.

"Well, theoretically, this girl who is a guy, does she have a hypothetical name?" Beau asked as he checked a life signs detector.

"Hypothetically, she has a name, but I'm not telling you," Lorne answered. Beau just nodded and walked the officer the rest of the way to his door in silence. That wasn't true when they got to the door, though.

"Dr. Kavanagh likes those Athosian fruit pastry things, sir. Night." Then Beau was gone, having disappeared into the almost non-existent shadows.

"Beau, I'm going to put a bell on you and sign you up for some sort of psychiatric treatment!" Lorne called into the nothingness. He entered his room. Lorne picked up the dvd box resting on his desk and grinned at it. _West Side Story_ was definitely a fourth date movie.


End file.
